Blind Seduction (12 page)

“It’s pretty crystal. I'd gotten my first two-week
leave in months, and I hadn't been home in almost three years.” Bas
tightened an arm around me. “It was the first time I'd seen you all
grown up and I was buried balls-deep in another woman. There is an
irony there you'll never understand,” he told me cryptically.

Bas shifted slightly to tuck me more securely under
his arm. “It was not the way I had planned on renewing our
acquaintance. To make matters really complicated, from that point
forward you managed to avoid me every time I was in Spokane.
Although, I think I caught a glimpse of you once in the years
afterward... I'm not positive it was you, but it may have
been.”

“Halloween? ‘Bout six years ago?” I felt his nod. “I
wasn't sure if you'd seen me. I ducked into the closest department
store and headed straight for the baby section. Every time I
thought I saw you, Bas, I went right to infants. There were several
occasions over the years, and I was positive you would never think
to look for me there. I learned more about onesies, breast pumps,
and crib safety features than half the clerks who worked those
departments. As a great side benefit, I always had the best gifts
at baby showers.”

I heard the rumble of laughter in the chest under my
cheek. “I must have hit every department that day, except babies
and toddlers, looking for you. You are to be commended on a
brilliant evasion technique. I'm only sorry you felt the need to
implement one.”

He sighed heavily into my hair. “I kicked myself,
hard and repeatedly, after you saw me with Sherry. Called myself
every name in the book for not showing restraint and waiting for
what I really wanted.”

His lips brushed over my forehead and kissed me
softly at the hairline. “What I really wanted was you.”

I stiffened in confusion, but Bas held me still, and
pleaded into my ear, “Hear me out.” I made the effort to relax my
muscles until I was lying pliant against his body again. “We’ve had
a lot of communication problems over the last fifteen or sixteen
years, and I want to get this out in the open, okay?”

I nodded. What else could I do? This talk had
diverted to a tangent I never imagined. Bastian
wanted
me?
In what reality was that even an option?

“I looked up one day when you were only fifteen and
saw you. I mean, I
really
saw you,” he emphasized. “Not
Janey's friend since kindergarten. Not the kid who came over every
weekend 'cuz her adoptive parents had better things to do than
raise their brainiac daughter. I saw the potential of you. Your
long dark hair, chocolate eyes, and a sarcastic mouth which tilts
up at one corner before it becomes a full-blown smile. I wanted
your mouth in places I'm sure your mouth had never been. Damn, you
were only fifteen.”

Bas placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face.
“I have thought of this mouth for years.” He kissed me. Sebastian
Declan kissed me, and the kiss held a sweetness I hadn't realized
he was capable of. My surprise was so complete, I didn't kiss him
back.

After tucking my face into his neck again, he sighed,
no doubt disappointment over my lack of participation. But come on,
we had never been friends. This revelation left me stunned, not
stupid.

“I asked for a transfer out of country,” he
continued. “I was sent to the Middle East for three years. Not much
opportunity for meeting women, or dating, over there. When I was
back in the States, back in Spokane, you were eighteen by then, and
I planned to look you up and finally do something about the hard-on
I'd been carrying around for three years.

“I'd gone out for a run that morning and bumped into
Sherry while I was on my way back.”

Unable to resist the wide open pun potential, I
interrupted his story. “Bumped into her? Yes, that’s one
description for it. Repeatedly bumped into her, as I remember it.”
Our shared laughter over my teasing was a nice break in the
tension.

Bastian continued, more relaxed, “She and I had dated
years before, so when she expressed an interest in—well let's call
it what it was, a quick fuck—I thought it was a way to take the
edge off until I could wine and dine you properly. I was an idiot.”
He took a deep breath. “One minute I had my face in her hair,
because her shampoo smelled like yours, then I looked up, and there
you were.

“Damn, I had no idea you were even in the house, but
there you stood. You were wearing this transparent little top and a
pair of white panties. Your long hair was messy around your
shoulders and breasts; your eyes were heavy as if you'd just woken
up. And god, that mouth, Teresa.” Bas' hand stroked over my head
and he speared his fingers through my hair, gripping a handful in
his fist. It wasn't painful, but he used the grip to control my
head and firmly forced my face back up to his own.

His breath washed over my face as he continued
speaking, “All I saw at the time were those lips, soft and parted.
I was thrown back to the moment, three years earlier, when I
envisioned
that
mouth, and those lips, wrapped around
me.”

The kiss was more forceful. This time I wasn't taken
unaware. His mouth was greedy. His tongue was bold and very
thorough, alternating between spearing deep to curl with my tongue
and backing away to lick at my lips. I felt devoured. Bas arched
his hips and I became uncomfortably aware of the erection straining
against the back of my thighs, still draped over his lap.

No! No, I was not going there! I broke off the kiss,
and yes, I was calling myself all kinds of stupid because I was
really enjoying the sensations. But, I refused to be overcome by
hormones like some regency romance novel ninny.

“Wow, Bas. This is—was—wrong on too many levels to
name.” I was still breathless, the taste of him warm and lingering
on my lips. “I realize you are turned on by remembering me watching
you, while you were boinking another woman, who you were imagining
was me.” I paused for a moment, unsure if that made sense or not.
“And, let's not forget the part about you professing an interest in
me, but you screwed her to take the edge off? Do I understand the
situation correctly? You intended to ask me out on a date, but you
cheated on me before you could ask?”

“I already admitted I was an idiot. The blood was all
in the wrong head.” His grip on my hair eased, but I kept my face
tilted upward. “Teresa, I was twenty-five, maybe twenty-six, who
remembers anymore? I was young and stupid. But, there is one big
thing here you're not taking into consideration.”

Yeah, that's where my thoughts went too. But, who can
blame them; the zipper of his jeans was under a lot of stress at
the moment. I know what “big thing”
I
was considering, but
decided it might be prudent to ask, in case his thoughts weren't in
the gutter like mine were. “What?”

“Fifteen years, Teresa. For fifteen friggin’ years
every woman I've dated, screwed, or paid attention to, had your
hair, or your eyes—none of them ever came close to having your
mouth. Geez, even Sherry is superficially you: long dark hair,
brown eyes, and same shampoo.

“Every time I came back on leave, I looked for you.
It was only a few years ago I realized your avoidance meant you
were thinking about me, too, in order to elude capture.”

Elude capture, huh? Military guys are so...
military.

“Yeah, about that.” And, now we were turning back to
the conversation I wanted to avoid, but was trying to be grownup
enough to discuss. “I asked you if you remembered that morning
because it was a pivotal event for me.” I made a half-hearted
attempt to squirm off his lap, but Bas held me still. With a
resigned sigh, I relented, it wasn't like he was hurting me; he
merely wasn't allowing me to hide from him. I could actually
understand his stance. “It’s no surprise, I'm sure, I was probably
the last eighteen year old virgin in North Spokane. Geez even
Janey—”

“Oh no,” he cut me off. “You will not discuss my
sister's sex life with me.”

“Okay, fine,” I snickered, and then continued. “I'm
half-asleep, minding my own business, and I walk in on my best
friend's brother having sex on the kitchen counter. Bas, you have
to know you're way above average size—what, maybe two feet long?
There are horse ranchers in the area who have never seen a penis
that big.”

Bastian gave a full-throated, hearty laugh which
shook his whole body. I'm pretty sure he kissed my hair again.
“Because, I'm a guy, and we have to measure everything, I can
assure you I am a humble ten inches or so, not twenty-four. Yes, I
realize I'm on the large side, I also know while it may be a snug
fit,” his voice dropped to a wicked, suggestive growl, “every slow,
thick inch WILL fit.”

I blinked. I didn't know what to say to that.

When in doubt, ignore it. And definitely don’t think
about the Astro Glide sitting on the coffee table.

“Bas, except for quick glimpses from afar, that
image, in the kitchen nailing Sherry, is the last picture I have in
my head of you. In my mind, you will always be staring at me with
those fierce, wild eyes, your hand at her throat, with this
over-large cock pounding her with so much force it looked painful,
and scary. I will never be able to erase that moment and replace it
with a different image. ”

“Breathe,” he said quietly, in my hair after a few
moments.

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I
exhaled.

“That image, my first visual of a naked man and the
sex act, haunted me for years. When I turned twenty-one, I finally
decided enough was enough. I was tired of being intimidated, so I
did the mature thing: I got drunk and slept with a guy from a
college class right after finals. We went to his apartment, it
lasted a glorious five or ten minutes, then he rolled over and
passed out. I made my escape and spent the rest of the night
barfing up an overabundance of cherry brandy. No, I didn’t
appreciate the comedy in my choice until later.” I smiled, and
somehow felt Bastian sharing the humor with me.

“But the really pathetic part? I was so happy it was
done. I'd finally had sex. Although, it was uncomfortable, it was
not really painful, and I realized I had nothing to fear from
sex—well, except for a poor performance review, but I didn't think
he had any room to talk, so I wasn't sweating it.

“The blame is mine. I let myself be intimidated by
one aggressive image of you. Logically, I knew men's erections
averaged around six or seven inches, not twenty-four.” I grinned
and hit him with another pun, “I allowed myself to blow it all out
of proportion.” A quick hug was a more than adequate reward.

“A few years later, I hooked up with Devon. Nice
enough guy. No fireworks, but good enough in bed I eventually grew
to enjoy it. I even relaxed enough to start to feel adventurous. Of
course, three months into the relationship I realized I wasn't the
only girl he was sleeping with, so I dumped his ass. Or, maybe it
was a mutual thing because of the fingernails and the scratches—boy
was he pissed.”

Bas picked up my hand and ran his thumb over my newly
clipped and filed nails. I confirmed the guess he didn’t
articulate, “Next time I sleep with some guy, he won't have to
worry about scratches, the nails will be too short to do any harm.”
I smiled, smug with my simple solution.

Returning to the topic at hand, “When I was running
my mouth off at Janey's apartment, I was only letting off steam.
It’s been years since I've been intimate, and I was frustrated. At
myself, mainly.”

“Sleep with me,” Bas offered. Less than a heartbeat
later, I felt a lurch from the beast straining his zipper. No doubt
hoping this would be a democratic decision and thus his vote would
count in favor of the idea.

I was shaking my head no, before I formed the words
to explain myself. “There are a lot of reasons we shouldn't sleep
together, the most important being you're Janey's brother. When we
break up, or you get tired of me, I will still be Janey's friend.
It’s been hard avoiding you when you were here for a few weeks at a
time. It will be impossible if you live here 24/7 and I can no
longer see you coming.”

“We're not even dating and you have us breaking up?”
he asked, clearly bewildered by my superior female logic.

I was surprised he was delusional enough to think his
interest would last longer than the attention span of a three-year
old. It's one thing to cling to an obsession for fifteen years;
it’s quite another to stay interested after you get what you’ve
been coveting. That is assuming there is any truth to the story of
his suspended courtship plans.

“You said you wanted to sleep together. Who said
anything about dating? You're a player, Bastian. I have heels
higher than your standards. Why would I risk dating you when we
both know you'll get bored and be on to the next girl before the
semen dries on the sheets?” Crude, but I was pretty sure, accurate!
“I have minimal experience with men or sex; I doubt I could hold
your attention past the first blow job.” As a positive, since we’re
being crude, this would mean the semen wouldn’t even hit the
sheets.

“I have no desire to attempt fitting all of you into
any of me, Bas. Frankly, I only have your word you'd fit; I’m not
fully convinced it’s anatomically possible. I certainly don't think
a two ounce bottle of lube would be enough to even make the
attempt.” Ouch, even the idea hurt. “Not to mention you're an
aggressive man. I am not looking for a partner who wants to
overwhelm or consume me.”